<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Done Running by mee4ever</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28506252">Done Running</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mee4ever/pseuds/mee4ever'>mee4ever</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Blow Jobs, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Fights, Hopeful Ending, Kid Fic, M/M, Miscommunication, POV Derek Hale, Pining Derek, Post-Break Up, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, derek wrote a book about stiles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:35:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,530</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28506252</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mee4ever/pseuds/mee4ever</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“So, you met this relatively much younger guy, who you may or may not have fallen in love with because your wolf found him to be a suitable partner, you got together with him after endless sleepless nights, you screwed him for a couple of months before the gay-panic ensued whereon you left him, the town you grew up in, you went to New York, pined after him without seeing him, for eight years, wrote a book about him and then you come back to find that he’s had a life without you and you feel… pissed about that? If something here doesn’t make sense, it’s definitely not the part where you fell for a guy.” </p>
<p>Or the one where Derek has to own up to his past mistakes and potentially fill a void that's been empty.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>134</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Done Running</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>bros... have some angst. and a quick fuck in a public bathroom... with you know <em>feelings</em>. not beta read so like don't flame</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Derek stopped walking because his feet wouldn't let him move further. There he was. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stiles Stilinski. </span>
  </em>
  <span>After years and years, they were inevitably in the same town again and Derek felt like hurling in a bin at the sight of the still gangly man he’d fallen in love with a decade ago. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you scowling?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m always scowling.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I've seen you do it maybe twice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I used to scowl, then. Old habit.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s him? That’s the guy you screwed?” Jason asked. He sounded confused by the fact, but it was a fact nonetheless; his sense of smell wasn’t all that developed but he could surely pick up whatever Derek was reeking of. It was probably eight years worth of self-hatred and pent up sexual frustration, so it wasn’t like it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>difficult </span>
  </em>
  <span>to pick up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s Stiles, yes,” Derek said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Odd-looking, that one,” Jason said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Beautiful as ever, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Derek thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, so why are we lurking? What’s wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He has a kid,” Derek said because there was no denying that the little girl wasn’t Stiles’; even from a distance she smelled like him and even from a distance the smell made Derek dizzy. “And she’s obviously his.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Jason said and Derek forcibly removed his gaze from Stiles picking up his daughter, to look at him. “You have a kid, too, who’s also obviously yours,” Jason argued and flashed his bright yellow eyes. Derek smiled and felt like his heart would explode. Jason had only been with him for the better part of a year but he’d found his place as Derek’s beta and—more importantly—</span>
  <em>
    <span>son</span>
  </em>
  <span> better than Derek could’ve ever hoped for. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And so what if he has a kid? Everyone gets kids. And she’s like three years old. She’s cute.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She’s not </span>
  </em>
  <span>my </span>
  <em>
    <span>kid, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Derek thought, but he only shrugged his answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s the deal with this guy?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I— My wolf… she thinks he’s our mate.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait. Your wolf’s a ‘she’? Are you like trans?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In a sense, yeah. It’s not very usual for one’s wolf to be anything other than what you are yourself but I’ve never felt uncomfortable being male. I guess it’s just how I am. Who we are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason shrugged. “So, </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> thinks you’re mates. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s complicated.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, Derek, you should know by now. ‘Complicated’ doesn't work on me. I'm a fifteen-year-old, gay werewolf who ran away from my sacrilegious pack. I’m complicated all the way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just… I’ve always considered myself straight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Open-minded of you. Work out good?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And then he came along and </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> just decided that he was it, The One? It doesn't make any sense to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, love suddenly should make sense?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't even know if I loved him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, you met this relatively much younger guy, who you may or may not have fallen in love with because your wolf found him to be a suitable partner, you got together with him after endless sleepless nights, you screwed him for a couple of months before the gay-panic ensued whereon you left him, the town you grew up in, you went to New York, pined after him without seeing him, for eight years, wrote a book about him and then you come back to find that he’s had a life without you and you feel… pissed about that? If something here doesn’t make sense, it’s definitely not the part where you fell for a guy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Jason was on the move and the fact that he was walking towards Stiles was the only reason why Derek seemed to be able to move after him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately for Derek, Jason caught up to Stiles before Derek could stop him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Stilinski?” he asked and Stiles looked up, confused, and slightly suspicious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason held out his hand. “Jason Bradbury.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Stiles rearranged his daughter on his hip and took the teenager’s hand, he cast a glance behind him and froze at the sight of Derek. Derek, who was motionless as well as speechless, just held Stiles’ unforgiving gaze until Jason spoke again and Stiles politely turned his attention to the young man. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I believe you know my foster father?” Jason said and Stiles nodded. Derek managed to walk up to stand just behind Jason to his right, but Stiles didn’t look at him again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Derek,” he said, sounding more like common courtesy than anything else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good to see you,” Derek said but he wasn't entirely sure if that was the truth. To see Stiles meant dealing with things: feelings, decisions, mistakes. It meant more heartache than pleasure, and Derek wasn’t sure he could take more of that. Coming back to Beacon Hills had been a terrible idea, he decided. “How’ve you been?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good, thanks. Had a bit of an accident a few years ago,” he said and looked at his daughter. “Best accident of my life, if I do say so myself.” Back in the day, either one of them would've commented on the enormous number of accidents Stiles had had. Now, Derek only asked for the daughter’s name. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles made a face and she laughed. “Tallie,” he said and then he twisted to make her see the two others. “Will you say hello, Tallie, baby?” Derek couldn't help it, he felt a pang of longing, of sadness because Derek could’ve easily named his daughter that: something that was similar to his mother’s name. It hurt because Stiles’ most definitely hadn’t had Talia Hale in mind when Tallie got her name. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Ello,” she said and waved and Derek and Jason waved back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is Derek,” Stiles continued, “and that’s his son, Jason.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Big,” Tallie said, extending her hands to show </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>big they were. The three guys laughed like you do when toddlers say something funny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, very big,” Stiles confirmed then turned to the ground again. “He’s your pack?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How could you have possibly noticed that?” Jason asked in awe. Stiles chuckled softly, the sound making Derek’s stomach flip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your guard. His. You’re a lot like someone from way back.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isaac,” Derek said. “You're a lot like Isaac.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have no idea if that's a compliment, but…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you back?” Stiles asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason glared at Derek. Like he was the adult in this relationship he decided to explain. “We’re rebuilding the Hale house. Apparently, it’s good for me to keep active and focus on goals so that I won’t get into drugs.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jason,” Derek warned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, alright, it’s mostly so that Derek will have a place to write, but he makes it sound like it’s all about me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a writer?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek hurried to interrupt him. “Just for a magazine. They don't even publish my name because I suck.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ergo, the house,” Stiles said. Derek nodded but looked away. He didn’t want to start lying first thing but he couldn't have Stiles reading his book, especially not when they were going to be living in the same town again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We better get going, we need to get to a few shops before they close for the day.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Say hi to your dad for me,” Derek asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will do,” Stiles said and breathed in a large breath. “See you around.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See you around,” echoed Derek and Jason. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Derek! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Derek! </span>
  </em>
  <span>You bit another </span>
  <em>
    <span>kid? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dude, I thought you would have learned—</span>
  <em>
    <span>”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Scott, because if you’d learned everything about scent that you didn’t allow me to teach you, you would’ve known Jason here is not of making even if he’s my beta.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Scott looked rather baffled. “Oh.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why does everyone immediately know? Can't I just see someone you know and get to tell them myself?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek ignored Jason’s remark and stared Scott down. He hadn’t seen him for as long as he hadn’t seen Stiles, but it was easier to look objectively at him: to see the lines in his face that hadn’t been there when he was eighteen, to see the way he’d really grown into his face as well as his body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Welcome back,” Scott said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek cut to the chase. “Are we going to have a problem?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Scott narrowed his eyes. “About the fact that you broke my best friend’s heart or are you talking territorial?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Territorial.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, well then you know that’ll never be a problem. My wolves are very aware of what goes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have new ones?” Derek wondered how many, how it had happened but he didn't ask. He would have time to catch up on the wildlife of Beacon Hills. He was just glad that the Hale’s still held their ground despite them being exactly two at this moment. It was, however, double the amount that had left this shit hole eight years ago. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Say hi when you meet them and don’t be a douche, we’ll be fine,” Scott promised. “As for breaking Stiles’ heart and never getting in touch with anyone: you’re on the shitlist.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sheriff,” Derek cautiously said. He wasn’t sure where he stood with the older man, if Stiles had told him anything, </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Derek Hale,” the Sheriff said after he’d turned around like he didn’t believe his own eyes. They mostly just stared at each other for a while, the Sheriff behind his desk, Derek in the doorway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See you got yourself a new beta. He the only one?” the Sheriff finally said and broke the silence. Behind Derek, Jason exclaimed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jason, manners.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s the second </span>
  <em>
    <span>human </span>
  </em>
  <span>today who’s just casually understood that. I would like to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>news</span>
  </em>
  <span>, okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, to burst your bubble, kid,” the Sheriff chuckled, “but another were-anything in Beacon Hills is all but news.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this a ‘human-in-this-town’-thing or a Stilinski thing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve seen Stiles?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a second Derek wanted to strangle his foster son, because the look on Stilinski Senior told Derek that he indeed was in the loop, at least about certain specifics. “Only briefly,” Derek answered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A were-anything in Beacon Hills might’ve not been news, but Derek bloody Hale in Beacon Hills was. Derek bloody Hale with a fifteen-year-old kid was news. Derek bloody Hale with </span>
  <em>
    <span>pack </span>
  </em>
  <span>was news. Scott showed up with his family at Derek and Jason’s motel room after Derek had finished up at the station. Allison greeted Derek with a hug, which he and Jason were both rather surprised about because Derek had told him about the hunters, the Argents. And when Chris stepped in behind her, it was interesting how calm Derek felt. Allison was running things, which meant he was safe but Derek also felt sure that whether or not she was in the picture, Chris would never hurt another supernatural unless they severely wronged themselves. Scott and Allison had two cubs. They grew attached to a skeptic Jason after five minutes and it was weird having the two pack’s scents mingle together like that. It felt almost… like home, which made Derek feel uneasy. Scott would never fall in line behind Derek and Derek would never find it in him to do it behind Scott. They would always just scatter around each other and nowadays they didn't even really have Stiles as a bridge between them. There were four more pack members: Mason, Hayden, Corey, Liam. A human, another wolf, a something Derek had never smelled, and then there was Liam. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You bit that one,” Derek said and pointed towards the boy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Scott shrugged. “Saved his life.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lucky.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” It was dismissive, a “you weren’t here so you should shut up but I’m too polite to say it.” Derek wanted to know about the rest, who still considered themselves part of the McCall-pack. Lydia? Jackson? Kira? Malia? His heart clenched: Isaac? Stiles and Tallie had been obvious, and even the Sheriff was on the outskirts. But he didn’t ask. They were all probably out in the world, doing their things and he didn't know if he had the right to pry. He didn't think so at least. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They went over some safety precautions, Allison, Chris, and Derek as Scott managed to handle the rest of everybody. Derek found Jason bonding with Corey and Mason and Derek realized that the two latter were definitely hooking up. Maybe it was a good thing to socialize him with Scott’s pack. He needed people around him that were like him: supernatural, gay, young, or a mix of several of those characteristics. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek was just dead scared Jason too would choose Scott over him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So…" Jason said after everyone had left. He stood with a takeaway box, fishing up carrot pieces out of a leftover noodle box. "These are your… friends?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek huffed. "I don't have friends." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because you're emotionally constipated, right." Jason waved his fork as if he'd just remembered the fact. Derek groaned and hung his shoulders and the bed beneath him made a sad sound that fit him perfectly. Jason sat down on his own bed next to him and went on. "They seem to consider you at the very least an acquaintance." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They'd been through a lot together. Maybe that was what friendship was: tolerating each other even after years of mistrust. But no. He'd been friends with Stiles. Really good friends, even, before he'd fucked that up by allowing himself to want him as something more for a hot minute. Stiles had been so young, so fierce, full of energy. It'd been stupid, not only for the fact that Derek had way too many years on him but for the fact that Stiles had to go to college and meet new people and want the freedom that came with that. It was for the best he got to do all those things without Derek hanging over him like a desperate puppy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed. "I guess they're the closest thing I have to friends if not talking to them for eight years counts as keeping them as such." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason nodded slowly. "You know what your problem is?" Without Derek responding, Jason offered his two cents. "You think the world is always out to get you." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's because it is." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason contemplated this before putting the box down on the nightstand and slipping beneath his covers. "Pretty sure the only one that has it out for you at the moment is you." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek didn't respond. He knew he was terrible at taking care of himself and he was always the one letting the wrong people close enough to hurt him. Ever since Kate, everyone he got close to resulted in him getting hurt. His family died, then Laura, then Peter came back psychotic, Scott, Erica and Boyd, Isaac… Everyone but Stiles. But he'd made sure to hurt himself using Stiles, so maybe he counted as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned the lights off and dropped his shirt and kicked out of his pants before pulling the covers tight around himself. He turned to his side and watched Jason on the other bed. "Jason?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mm?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't think I didn't notice you didn't brush your teeth." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason's grin shone through the darkness and Derek smiled a little, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that Stiles?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek almost stumbled on a root. He was already watching him, of course, as they were jogging past the Sheriff’s house on the small dirt path just inside the woods, and Stiles just so happened to be outside on the grass lawn, chasing Tallie around. It wasn't like Derek had figured out that Stiles stayed with his dad for the time being or that this track ran straight past their house. It was just a coincidence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, is it?” Derek asked, looking around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so transparent, you creep.” Jason snorted and then headed in Stiles’ direction. “Let’s say hi.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That had not been on Derek’s agenda. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Stilinski, good morning!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek winced and slowed to a half-jog as Jason stopped in front of the fence surrounding the Sherif’s lawn. Stiles sat on the back steps, a mug in hand and a book in the other. For a nauseating second, Derek thought maybe it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>book, but when he got closer, it just looked like something on mermaids. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Morning,” Stiles said. He did not get up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Derek’s showing me around and getting some exercise is apparently good for me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For the drugs,” Stiles nodded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lack thereof,” Derek corrected. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles pulled at his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek felt out of breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you had breakfast?” Jason asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With his eyebrows raised, Stiles shook his head. “I only manage to feed one human at a time.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jason—” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t you guys go for breakfast then? I could watch Tallie for a minute.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles blinked at him for way too long. “I don’t think—” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason jumped the fence and Tallie came running with a plastic tractor, tooting her mouth and Jason yelled and ran out of the way. Derek stared at him as he threw himself on the ground and Tallie ran him over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose, I could eat.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek looked up. Stiles didn’t look sure. He looked angry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lexi’s?” Derek asked faintly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me get my keys.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Stiles disappeared into the house, Derek whispered for Jason to stop meddling. Jason just rolled on the ground and nipped after Tallie’s legs as she ran around him, giggling. Derek watches them, hurting from the pit of his stomach to his fingertips. It could’ve been their children. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you ready?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek flinched and turned to Stiles who’d somehow come up and stood beside him. He looked at the kids. “S-sure.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I give them half an hour.” He messed up Tallie’s hair as she ran past. “Daddy’ll be back in a little while, sweetheart!” She didn’t even seem to notice. Stiles sighed and turned without looking at Derek. “Let’s go.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Had Lexi’s diner been more than five minutes away, Derek would’ve sunk through the ground at the awkward quiet. When they were seated, he barely managed to sit still because the look of Stiles sitting casually in front of him like they were on a date was almost too much. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who’s the mother?” Derek asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles gave him an unamused glance over the menu. “Does it matter?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek shrugged. “Does she live here?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She lives in Nevada. I have full custody.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles smiled at their waitress and ordered pancakes. Derek a bagel and black coffee after Stiles kicked him under the table. “What about Jason?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about him?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are his biological parents?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In a suicide cult.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stared at each other until Derek looked away. “I was supposed to just foster, but I adopted him before we came here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fatherhood suits you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek nodded. “You too.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Listen, Derek—” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you… don’t like that I am back, but Jason’s a good kid and I want to do what’s best for him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just think we should be adult about it.” Derek watched Stiles’ Adam’s apple bob and he licked his lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Adult about it,” Stiles repeated. "You know what?" He stood abruptly. "I'll be right back." He headed towards the bathrooms and Derek sighed, sitting back. He had managed all fo five minutes before fucking things up. Great. Just… great.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tried not to, but he could still hear Stiles' breath and that it came out wrong. After a minute, Derek couldn't take listening to it anymore and he rose from his seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles stood leaning on his hands on the oblong sink, head hanging between his shoulders when Derek walked in. He looked up, saw Derek in the mirror, and groaned. "Oh, for fuck's sake, you're gone for eight years without a problem but now I can't have </span>
  <em>
    <span>two minutes</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek had walked up to the sink, too. Now, he stood quiet. It hadn't been the best idea to be out in public for this. "Are you mad?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes!" Stiles whispered furiously and turned to look at him properly. "Of course, I'm mad!" Derek tried to respond, but Stiles belted on. "This is— I can't even be mad at you normally! I don't know how to just be mad at one thing because it took one second and then I am flying off the wall about </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything. </span>
  </em>
  <span>About you leaving, about you staying away, about you coming back. I hate everything about it, I can't sort through it, I'm just blindingly mad and I don't fucking like being mad. I just want to calm down, eat this fucking meal, and go home." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took a large breath, hands trembling. Derek began to reach for him as if to comfort him, beg for forgiveness, anything, but he stopped himself halfway. It wasn't his place. Stiles wanted him to leave again. He hated him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Stiles grabbed his hand out of the air and lifted it to cup his own face. He closed his eyes and Derek took a step forward. The anger washed off his scent as quickly as it had arisen, and left was pools of anxiety and quiet comfort. They held their hands still, the contact making Derek's breath go out of him and the close proximity spun his mind out of control. What if he could have this back, what if they could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>again, what if—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles looked at him. They were almost as tall as each other, Derek had an inch, maybe two, more. Derek swallowed. "I…" But he didn't have words; he never had words. "I'm sorry." For this, for leaving, for everything. It wasn't eloquent and it wasn't enough, but it was a start. Maybe somewhere along the line, they could be friends again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're sorry." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, he didn't accept that apology. Derek looked down. He couldn't even think of anything else to say with his fingers on Stiles' skin and his breath playing on his chin, or… or Stiles' head on his shoulder. Derek didn't decide to press him closer with his other hand, he just did that anyway. He mumbled, "I've missed you." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles' palms found their way to Derek's chest and rested there. He must've felt how hard and fast Derek's pulse was because he pulled back enough to look him in the eye again. But he was close, so close, and Derek met his gaze and still, he felt so far away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At first, it wasn't a choice. One second they were just breathing each other's air and the next they were kissing. Derek had no idea who had leaned into who or why neither of them pulled away, but as soon as he thought that he should, he made the choice not to. He was selfish and a bastard, but he told himself it was alright because Stiles wasn’t pushing him away. Stiles was even pressing in closer, his hands moving up, up, until he had them fitted in Derek's hair until the kiss turned into one of intent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They'd never truly hooked up in public, and it didn't seem like the most appropriate time nor the place to do it then, but Derek let Stiles unbuckle his belt and then he pressed Stiles into one of the stalls, locking the door behind them. It wasn't pretty, but they'd never been pretty, just raw and—ironically enough— human. Somehow, it felt sort of right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles had his hand down Derek's underwear before Derek even had time to kiss him again. He gasped and tried to fit a hand in Stiles' hair but it was too short. Instead, he pressed them into another deep kiss and moved his hand to undress him, too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you get cum on my clothes, Derek Hale</span>
  <em>
    <span>, I swear to god…” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek completely ignored his remark, but he hadn’t planned on such a thing anyway so Stiles was in the clear. Derek didn’t care to remove shirts, he just unbuckled and unzipped Stiles' jeans and he held Stiles in his hand too before it was even convenient to do so. Stiles moaned in his ear and Derek couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>handle</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. He lifted Stiles up, made him wrapped his legs around Derek's hips, and then he moved to smash Stiles’ back to the stall wall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” he muttered but Stiles only dragged his head down to kiss him again, bucking against Derek for friction. Derek held Stiles’ arse in his hands, guiding Stiles’ body where he wanted it to be, ghosting over his entrance and wished they had time, less desperation, and lube. Instead, he thrust upwards, cock against cock, and Stiles hissed and threw a hand back to grab the edge of the stall to steady himself. His other hand came to rest around Derek’s neck, pressing their faces together as they panted for breath and he whispered things Derek did not understand. He thought it a good thing because he wasn’t sure it was all pleasant things coming out of Stiles’ mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek hadn’t given a blow job in seven years but the mechanics were still there, and once he got Stiles’s cock in his mouth he went on autopilot. He knew the taste, the feel, the everything, and Stiles tugged on his hair like he used to, to get more, to get quicker. Derek didn’t ever want it to end but regardless of his wishes, Stiles started stuttering after just a few minutes and he came down Derek’s throat not long afterward. Derek swallowed him whole, licked his sensitive head clean, and then Stiles yanked at his hair to get him to stand up again. Derek complied, touching Stiles everywhere that he could, hands on hips, fingers to chest, lips to skin. Stiles, frantic as if he hadn’t already come, kissed Derek so hard it made his legs feel weak. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Stiles dropped to his knees, Derek fell forwards, crashing his upper body into the wall and Stiles laughed. It was the sound of gods and when he pulled at Derek’s legs to move him towards said wall, Derek couldn't do anything other than move because Stiles was like a trance he couldn't get out of. Anything for this man. His lips on Derek’s dick were heavenly and Derek wondered if maybe Stiles was a supernatural after all. He didn’t voice his wonders, only growled low in his throat, feeling how the wolf clawed on the inside, somehow unsatisfied. Involuntarily, he thrust his hips, making Stiles gag but Stiles didn’t seem to care all that much since he didn’t even come up for air; he just kept his mouth working, tongue slithering. Derek said his name and Stiles sucked him down long and hard and mind-blowing. He tried keeping his sound levels down when he came but his moans echoed along the walls anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Jesus," Stiles said on a chuckle when he was standing again, breath hot on Derek's lips. "In the bathroom like a couple of horny teenagers, ey? I'm not sure I can walk out of here without dying of shame." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it wasn't shame tinted on his cheeks, Derek thought, it was satisfaction. It made Derek feel like he was smashed by a house. Despite the two-seconds-ago orgasm, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>was far from satisfied. "I'll go first, then."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles’ smile dropped a little at the words. "Oh, yeah. Okay. Walking out second, yep, right." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek watched him look down at his hands, unclenching his fingers one by one. It probably daunted on Stiles then that they'd hooked up in a toilet stall in a breakfast diner. It definitely wasn't romantic or sexy, it was desperate and probably really unsanitary. Derek took a step back, his lower back hitting the paper dispenser. Fucking hell. He cleared his throat, face neutral. He didn't say anything. He couldn't make himself when all he wanted was to kiss him again. He quickly got his pants back on, unlocked the door, and stepped out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully, the bathroom was still empty. His face looked back at him in the mirror, scruffy and hair on end. Futilely, he pressed his hands over it to flatten it down. Stiles—dressed again too—patted his hands away and did it himself, raking his hands through Derek's quiff while Derek decidedly didn't look at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"There you go." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek only mumbled and headed for the door. He needed air, somewhere that didn't smell like sex or disappointment or Stiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Derek—" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hand on the door, he stopped. Didn't turn. Heart racing worse now than the entire morning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A long silence. Then a sigh. "...Nevermind. It doesn't matter." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek didn't look back. He didn't even look at their table, he didn't care about the check before he found himself short for breath in the outskirts of the woods after he had most likely run there. He didn't know. If there was one thing he shouldn't have done, it was this. Hooking up with Stiles, especially before talking things over, was a really, really stupid decision. Now he wouldn't be able to even pretend to act or feel somewhat normal because the memory of him wasn't distant and a little bit faded but fresh in his mind. And the others would smell them too. On each other. Not a ridiculous amount, but enough to know they at the very least kiss. He was not equipped to handle that either. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Jason came back to the motel, Derek took him to the burned ruins of his family home. He did not talk—especially not about Stiles—not even when Jason asked questions. They just cleared some debris and then sat on the front porch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I thought this was about healing." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek glanced at him and huffed. "It's about you not getting into drugs." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason rolled his eyes. "Haha, very funny." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek ducked his head and smiled. It seemed as good an excuse as any, to rebuild his old life together with his new, but looking at it all now, it didn't seem like much to rebuild rather than tear down. "It's mostly trash." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The house or your life?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek snorted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We have lived in motels for the past eleven months, you know, and just because it was the same one for five of those doesn't count as a permanent home, so I know your life's sorta trash. I'm fifteen, not stupid." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He kept saying that, so Derek thought he ought to start treating him like it. "I'm really sorry about that, Jason." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason just waved at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It turned out that making a plan about deconstruction and reconstruction was very hard when you don't know anything about construction. To make up for it, Derek took Jason to the local library and they studied. School was already out for the summer and Derek didn't have the heart to put Jason in summer school to make up for the things he'd missed. He was going to be behind one year, but they decided that starting high school in the fall like anyone else was better than trying to fit in with the kids that had already gotten to know each other for the past year. They read up on demolition and house structure instead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It also turned out that avoiding Stiles in small-town Beacon Hills was a lot easier when nothing supernatural was threatening it. Derek had only even known him when there was always something around the corner and they'd been continually thrown together in life-threatening situations. When daily lives were what spun the cogs, Derek could smell him from a mile away and turn the other way. It certainly wasn't the mature way of dealing with the situation, but at least he could say that they hadn't had to have any more awkward public encounters of any kind and that was good enough for now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a few weeks, that's what he did. Read, planned, and avoided Stiles Stilinski to his best abilities. He knew it wouldn't last forever, but he didn't think it would be a text that broke the status quo. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he put the sledgehammer down, leaning on the top of the shaft while fishing his phone out of his pocket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Unknown:</b>
  <span> Derek, I presume this is your number and that Jason left it when he looked after Tallie when we had… breakfast. Let me know if that's not the case. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared at it for a few minutes before staring at Jason on the other side of the old living room, a bright yellow helmet on his head because despite werewolf abilities "it's about proper style." Had he really left Derek's number at Stiles' house? And if so, had Stiles had it this whole time?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Begrudgingly, Derek replied that it indeed was him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Stiles:</b>
  <span> How can I be sure? Tell me something only you know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The response came quickly enough that Derek didn't even have time to put the phone away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Derek:</b>
  <span> Like what?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Stiles:</b>
  <span> Anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was hard to know what things Stiles had told other people. It wasn't like they were big on secret sharing despite having to share pretty hefty secrets. In the end, Derek wrote the one thing he knew Stiles was at the very least self-conscious about and wouldn't tell just anyone. He hated to think that once upon a time, he hadn't been </span>
  <em>
    <span>just anyone. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Derek:</b>
  <span> You count your fingers when you're not sure whether or not you're dreaming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Stiles:</b>
  <span> Okay, asshole, so now you have my number, you better fucking call me when you're man enough to deal with your shit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He read the message several times over. He'd not been able to deal with his shit ever. Maybe Stiles would have to wait forever, but to not sound like a complete asshole, Derek just responded with a simple "okay." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Stiles:</b>
  <span> Good. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek pulled at the corner of his mouth; Stiles always did have to have the last word.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What are you smiling about?" Jason asked. He's crossed the room and was peering down at Derek's phone. "Or should I say, who?" His grin was wide enough to tell Derek that he'd seen at least a few of the latest texts. Derek put his phone back in his pocket and picked up the sledgehammer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's no one," he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason took a couple of steps back, eyeing the hammer. "Well, I think </span>
  <em>
    <span>no one </span>
  </em>
  <span>is tired of waiting for you." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And I think you better help me bust his wall down." Derek heaved the hammer. It was cathartic to smash stuff. He had let Jason convince him not to bulldoze down the entire place, which meant a lot of more fine precision work like this. It also gave him time to think. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another week went by. Jason did one of two things: bash shit or nag Derek about calling Stiles. Sometimes, if Derek was truly unlucky, Jason did both at the same time, screaming at the top of his lungs as debris fell or walls collapsed. “IF YOU DON’T CALL HIM, HE’LL FORGET ABOUT YOU.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek almost told him that Stiles would never forget him, but it made him sound way further up his own ass than he thought he was. Stiles could forget about him, but he hadn’t, not even after years. He’d thought about him enough to be mad at him still. But, he told himself, maybe it was that Derek hadn’t given him closure. Maybe that was what he wanted now. To get it all out there, everything bad that had happened, and then move on. He had a child, for fuck’s sake. Even if he wasn’t together with the other parent didn’t mean he was going to stay single forever. It didn’t mean that he cared at all about a stupid hook up in a public restroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek was a coward for not calling, though. And he was tired of being a coward. He indicated for Jason that he was stepping out and pulled out his phone. He’d programmed Stiles’ number to the second speed dial again. Jason was the first, and no one was anywhere else. He’d sat with the phone several times for the past week but never found the confidence to see him again, even hearing his voice felt like putting a gun to his own head. Derek had survived being shot in the head, though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>You better not ask me about something trivial.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek didn’t say anything for a second, sort of thrown off-kilter that Stiles hadn’t just said “hello.” Then, he found his best neutral voice and retorted, "Terrible weather, isn't it?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could hear the smile in Stiles' response. It made his hands shake. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, I hate the sun and also bunnies and fun.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Can we take a walk?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>A… walk</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" Suspicious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t want Jason around, but he also didn’t want to see him in public and he definitely didn't want to take him back to the motel especially not with the indications that could hold. He just needed to see him. Talk. Let Stiles shout at him, maybe. "Yeah, in the woods, maybe, around the— around my house?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was quiet for a few moments. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Can I bring Tallie</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"'Course.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>An hour</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was way too soon. Stiles was a single father with a toddler, he shouldn’t be free until next week at the earliest. Derek swallowed his fear, pressed it down to his stomach where it settled uncomfortably. “I’ll be here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Jeep was not a thing of beauty. It was held together with duct tape and magic, the biggest proof that Stiles was all but human. At least, Stiles had installed a kid’s seat and it didn’t make as much noise now as it had ten years ago. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek stood on the porch and watched him park. Jason stood beside him. “You gonna be okay alone?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Derek, I have a grilled chicken and half a house I’m actually allowed to trash, I think I’ll be fine for an hour or two.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek mussed his hair and Jason yelled at him for not understanding him before waving at Stiles. “Hello, Mr. Stilinski.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles waved and ducked into the car to unbuckle Tallie. He cooed and fuzzed and smiled. Derek wanted to hide under a rock. Instead, he walked down the stairs and met Stiles by the Jeep as he dropped Tallie down on the ground and took her hand. “This thing still rides, huh?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles looked up. “Fit as a fiddle.” His mouth was all tension and he followed Tallie as she headed off towards Jason, making grabby hands. Derek followed them back slowly, watching as Jason squatted down and gave Tallie a hug. She hadn’t as much as given Derek a look and even if it was stupid, he felt hurt by it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t take long for Tallie to grow bored of Jason and she headed off towards the woods, a field of flower in her way. Stiles shrugged and they both traced her steps. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You owe me ten bucks and enough to cover plastic surgery,” Stiles said as he dragged his hands over daisies, eyes tracking Tallie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek glanced at him. "What."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You think it was fun having to walk out second and having to pay for breakfast? I can never show my face there again and this is a small town, so neither can you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek did not respond. Stiles didn't look at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles folded first. He always did. "Aren't you going to say something?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What do you want me to say?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't know, how about: 'I shouldn't have left'?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I shouldn't have left." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Which time?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Every time,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Derek thought. That's what he always did when things were hard. Left. Stiles had snared him into this one, though, and Derek looked at him properly. "I'm sorry." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles snorted and looked away. "So you keep saying." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because I am." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles stopped and turned to him. "Being sorry for real means changing your behavior, not repeating the same thing on a smaller scale. Where's Tallie?" He didn't look himself; he just relied on Derek's hearing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ten meters, three o'clock, sitting down."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If you were really sorry, Derek, you wouldn't have left me in the diner." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I really am—" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Then you're definitely not apologizing correctly." He crossed his arms and went after Tallie. "Hey, baby, did you find a pretty flower?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was right, of course. Derek had never learned how to apologize and whenever he did, it always seemed fake. Although this time it </span>
  <em>
    <span>mattered. </span>
  </em>
  <span>This time was the only time he wanted to be sincere and he didn't know how to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I… It…" He groaned. "It was too much." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles' gaze was ember but still, it was cold. "Then don't fuck an ex." Derek didn't like that he referred to himself like that. An "ex." To Derek, Stiles was </span>
  <em>
    <span>The One. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Anything else felt wrong and that's why being away felt wrong and being here felt wrong, and being with him felt wrong because Derek was very obviously just one in a sea of others. Stiles muttered, "Especially not where he has to do a very awkward walk of shame."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I shouldn't, I know. It was just… You kissed me and—" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"For your information, Mr. Sourwolf, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> kissed </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>and if you seriously have to suck a dude off because he kisses you, you better see a therapist."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pet name struck him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sourwolf. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Like no and too much time had passed at the same time. "Are you going to let me speak?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, excuse me for calling out your bullshit." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Stiles." Stiles picked Tallie up and put her on his waist. She made grabby hands towards Derek and started blabbering when he didn't come closer. Derek stared at her. He made a decision. "I don't think this is working." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles looked hurt. More hurt. Derek always was good at making other people hurt, too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're barely trying." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're barely letting me try." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles adjusted Tallie on his hip and lowered his voice to a growl. "Because you've had </span>
  <em>
    <span>eight years </span>
  </em>
  <span>to figure out a decent apology. Instead, you have </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>and it's </span>
  <em>
    <span>pathetic</span>
  </em>
  <span>." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stared at each other for a while. "You're right," Derek said and turned on his heel. He'd wasted his time and he'd quite literally blown his only chance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They walked back in silence, Stiles a foot or two behind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason did not look particularly happy when they came back so soon. Derek just gave him a look, and thankfully he didn't comment, just disappeared into the house again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles’ voice was a little forced but hinted at serious curiosity when he asked, "You read YA?" and Derek at first was just happy he said anything at all before he realized what he'd said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He glanced back at him. "...No?" </span>
</p>
<p><span>"Okay, so what's that?" Stiles stood bent to the side to read on the cover of Derek's book. </span><em><span>Derek's</span></em> <em><span>book </span></em><span>book. If he didn't know Jason meant well, he’d kill him. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>The cover was off the back of a guy's body, a red hood pulled over his head and dark trees on either side of him. He stood in the headlights of a car, a black backpack beside his sneakered feet. Along the top it read "Miguel Alvarez" and the bottom read</span>
  <em>
    <span> “He was the boy who cried ‘wolf!’ but instead of running from the beasts, he ran among them.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> It was a modern reimagining of Little Red Riding Hood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was about the two of them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trying to think of a better lie, he finally settled. on, "It's… Jason's." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh." Stiles lost interest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For some reason, it felt like he'd just lost Stiles twice because of it. Out on the daisy field and now the book, his secret love letter. Feeling like maybe he could at least try somewhere, to show Stiles a small, honest piece of himself, he picked the book up and held it out. "But… I think maybe you should read it." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles looked back at him. "Me?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is it interesting?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek swallowed. "I don't know. Would think so." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I haven't finished a book since high school."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe you haven't tried." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles made a face. "Just gimme the damn book." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek handed it over, glad that Stiles could not hear heartbeats. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles flipped it over in his hand. "You sure Jason won't mind, then?" He looked into the reminders of the house. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both bitter and thankful, Derek shook his head. "I'm sure." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay, then." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stood around awkwardly for another minute before making excuses for themselves to separate. He didn't think Stiles would actually read the book, but on the off-chance he did, he knew they'd talk again. He wasn't entirely sure whether or not he wanted that to happen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched Stiles drive off. "So, Stiles accidentally found a copy of Wolf Watch. I wonder how that got out on the porch."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason came out from where he was luring behind a pillar. "Dunno. Odd."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't want him to have it." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But you just gave it to him?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You know what I mean."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I really don't." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What's this about?" Derek tried to make his voice soft when he asked and waited for the response without pushing it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason kicked a rock off the wooden planes of the stair. Finally, he shrugged. "I just… I want to know if we're staying or not." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course we're staying." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason looked up and Derek waited for him to continue. "Even if it doesn't work out with Stiles?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek’s stomach dropped. He was so letting his own personal problems affect Jason in ways he definitely shouldn’t. He scooted closer, bumping their shoulders. "Stiles is not the reason we're back here." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sure he is." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"This was my home." Derek looked up at the blackened façade and then down at his young foster son. He maybe was a better alternative than where he came from, but Jason needed stability and Derek wasn't exactly a fortitude of that. But here, he had roots, he had somewhat friends and a place where they </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>stay. "It could be our home if that's what you want. We don't have to stay but we are giving it some time. And it will not be up to me and Stiles whether or not we do. Okay? I promise." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason just nodded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek contemplated for a second. "Is that why you're trying to get us back together?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not!" Derek just gave him eyebrows which Jason changed his tactics because of. "I'm just scared about the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wolf Watch-</span>
  </em>
  <span>sequel if you don't, you know?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek frowned. "There is no sequel." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason threw his hands out and exclaimed, "That's what I mean!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was two in the morning a few days later when there was a sharp knock on the door. The motel they stayed at wasn't the cheapest in existence and the wall was thick enough to actually even let a werewolf get a decent night's sleep. The knocking, however, wasn't just a straggler, it came again and again until Derek got up, grumpy and shirtless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was slapped in the chest with a hardcover. Stiles was silhouetted by a streetlamp behind him, only the fairest glint in his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You wrote a book about me, Derek," he hissed. "You wrote a book about me and you didn’t even make me the love interest, you made me the</span>
  <em>
    <span> main character.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek knew Jason could hear them, even if they stepped out, but he pushes past Stiles and shut the door anyway. He took the book and held it carefully in his hands. Instead of acknowledging what Stiles had said, Derek cut to the important question. “What did you think of it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles sighed and shook his head. “You completely missed the mark on the actual love interest.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You wrote about the wolf in the shadows who falls in love with a human boy, so you wrote yourself but not </span>
  <em>
    <span>once </span>
  </em>
  <span>did you use the word ‘broody’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek gave him eyebrows which said “haha, you’re so funny” and Stiles grinned. It was surreal, having him there and smiling even. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was weird. Weird enough to warrant a comment. "What— Not that I mind but… what are you doing here?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles hugged himself. "I just finished it." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's two AM." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, well, I started this morning and it is a long fucking book." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek smiled a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I just need to… get this off my chest." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Get what off your chest?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"My feelings about this book." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek swallowed and nodded as he leaned back against the cool door. "Okay." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles leaned against the railing on the opposite side of the corridor. “You don't love yourself enough to make my character fall for yours. You couldn’t write him being heads over heels because you still don’t think that I was, or at least you don’t think you deserved me to be. What you end up with is a heartbroken wolf and an oblivious human despite the relationship theirs was built on was nothing of such. You knew where I stood, Derek. You knew, I knew; hell, Scott, Lydia, and my </span>
  <em>
    <span>father</span>
  </em>
  <span> knew. Everyone knew. I wasn’t oblivious or not in love, I was fully aware and deep in my shit. You. However, you, couldn’t handle that. I was ‘young’ or I was ‘human’ or I was ‘going through a phase’. It meant jack shit that I had held my ground in this pack of wolves for years, that legally I was an adult, and that bisexuality is a fucking thing. None of it mattered because your stubborn ass didn’t dare give me a proper chance, and that, Derek, is why we didn’t end up together.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Derek had. He had given him a chance, they had had months where Derek had given in and let Stiles have the way he wanted, where he’d let himself want, too. He had known the whole time that it wouldn't last, that they would have to see that in the end. Derek, noble as he thought he was, had declared that ending before it would consume him and eat his soul. What he hadn’t known, was that he would’ve given anything to have ignored the part of him that said ‘go’ and listened to his wolf instead. Derek stared at Stiles while his stomach made all efforts it could to have him throw up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles shrugged. “But I mean, it’s purely fictional, this book, and for a book, it’s pretty good. I had high hopes for a hopeful queer ending but I guess in this story, I cannot get what I want.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thinking about Jason, Derek said, “I could…” Stiles glanced at him. “I could always write a sequel.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles snorted, a warm, surprised sort of snort. “The sequel is never as good as the first.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Except for Captain America.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you remember that. You never even saw the movies.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cap and Buck really are in love, you were right. And the Winter Soldier is definitely better.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles gaped at him. "You're so full of shit," he said, but his tone was fond.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek had no idea what that meant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I should let you go back to sleep." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek had no idea what that meant, either. Was he supposed to contradict him? Was it an invitation to something? Did he just want to leave? "Do you want to talk? Not now, but…" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles pushed off the railing. "Yeah. Let's talk. I'll… I'll call you." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles started walking away. "Thanks for loaning me your book." He turned, threw a hand out. "Sorry, I mean, Jason's book." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek just nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles called. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They met up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They talked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But they talked about nothing and Stiles didn't pull a single joke. It made Derek uneasy. It made him feel like they didn't even know each other, that they never had, and by the time two hours had passed, he was feeling desperate to have mad Stiles back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I fucked up," Derek said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn't realized he'd stopped walking before he saw Stiles turn back in front of him and take a couple of steps towards him. He didn't seem surprised at the words, and Derek wondered if he'd just played along and let Derek take his time. Stiles asked "what did you do?" and it was an honest question like he didn't actually know. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek breathed out. "I hurt someone I…" He took a short breath. It was okay. He could call it love. When he tried, it got stuck in his throat several times before he gave up on it. "Someone that meant the world to me. I believed I did the right thing. I… I could have handled it a lot better. I wish I had. I wish I had talked to him. Instead I just… ran." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles asked, "Where did you go?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>New York at first. Then Mexico, then Brazil. Back to New York when he lost himself in alcohol. At least New York had some sense of normality, even if it was tainted with the memory of Laura. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Where he couldn't follow."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles rolls his eyes. "That makes it sound like you died."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I felt like I did. But I told myself it was the right thing to do." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And was it?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn't a question with a simple answer and yet the answer was </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>. "I was the age you are now back then, Stiles. Would you hook up with some nineteen-year-old and not have conflicted feelings about it?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles took a step forward. "But it wasn't just 'some nineteen-year-old,' it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And that's supposed to make it </span>
  <em>
    <span>better</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I should've known better, behaved better. I should've acted like a fucking adult, and instead I—" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is this about Kate?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek did a double-take. "Excuse me, what did you just say?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles took a step back, as if unsure about what he'd just asked, but then he propped his face all up in Derek's. "I asked: Is this about Kate?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They'd never talked about it, not specifically, not like this, but of course, Stiles had figured it out, of fucking course. He was always the one to connect the dots. Why Kate was so obsessed with him, why Derek had trust issues, why he hated the Argents, why he had problems with Scott, why he never seemed to be able to keep healthy relationships, why Derek was… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Derek. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Of course, he already knew. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles crossed his arms. "I'm not you and you weren't her."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like it was that simple. "I couldn't be </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> like her." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles narrowed his eyes. "But for a while, it was alright, or did you conveniently forget we were actually a... </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>for months?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I was weak and stupid, and— She </span>
  <em>
    <span>ruined</span>
  </em>
  <span> my life</span>
  <em>
    <span>, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Stiles</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You should've forgotten about me. You were young, you still are, you can still—" He could still have someone else. Someone better. Someone worthy. Someone he deserved and that deserved him in return. Someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>not Derek.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles threw his hands out. "Listen, I've tried, okay? I have been dating, I've fallen in love, I have been in several short and several longer relationships, I have fucked around, I have been alone—" His voice broke and he took a breath and then another when the first one didn't help. "I've been so fucking alone, Derek." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Stiles…" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You abandoned me and it created a giant, Derek-shaped hole inside me. You know what can't fill Derek-shaped holes? Other people that aren't Derek! They don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>fit.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And I love Tallie with all my being and Jason seems like a great kid, but they were supposed to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>our </span>
  </em>
  <span>kids, Derek! Not mine and yours, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ours</span>
  </em>
  <span>!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A small voice in Derek's head told him that they still could be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They could be their kids. There more Derek allowed the sentiment to be heard, the more it grew in volume and all of a sudden it was shouting all the things Derek could have that he has always told himself he couldn't. A house. Kids. Family. A relationship. Stability. Love. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Home</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And with that, by his side on the journey, Stiles. They were it for each other, and they always would be. They had hurt and hurt and loved and loved and they could do it for all eternity apart, fighting it and walking away from it time and time again, or Derek could stop. He could pick up his life and his Stiles-shaped hole be filled because he had the perfect fit in Stiles' life as long as he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>stayed</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles had talked more and Derek hadn't listened. It became very clear when Stiles was suddenly all up in his face. "You know what, Derek?" he said and pressed an index finger to Derek's chest. " I guess you're more like Kate than you wanted to be anyway because you ruined mine, too." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek was stunned as the words slapped him in the face, and Stiles turned on his heel and stomped off. He stood still. This time, it wasn't him who turned and ran despite everything. This time, Derek stayed. It was about time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Stiles—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles snapped around. "What?!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt calm at once, a feeling of serenity he'd not felt since before the fire. He was home, and as long as he kept his feet on the ground, he'd be fine; they'd be fine. With a small smile, he said, "I'm done running."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His voice dripped with sarcasm when he said, "Lucky me." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek let him leave and didn't take it to heart. When the time was right, Stiles would understand. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>listen, they obvi get back together, work on their shit and have another kid or three.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>